


A Proposal's Refusal

by LazyBaker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Peter and Will are BFFs, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a conversation with Jack Crawford concerning one not-so-dead Will Graham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proposal's Refusal

Seeing Jack Crawford’s bulky frame waiting for Peter in the seat where Will had once sat years ago had Peter tugging and righting his sleeve, trying to act calm and not as if he’d been spiked with an overwhelming urge to flee.

Jack brought with him that brick-in-the-gut, lung-compressing, sweat-percolating sensation of being in trouble, despite the fact that Peter knew he had done nothing wrong recently to warrant the dry and demanding look from him.

But the look remained and Peter went with his instinct to not focus on anything Jack related, avoiding any unnecessary hostilities by looking at the floor or the windows over his shoulders.

He hadn’t had a visitor since Will and wasn’t expecting to have another one before he was released. This morning he was supposed to go to the library, but Peter had been ushered to one of the few areas visitors were allowed. The room had been cleared of everyone. It was the quietest Peter had ever heard it and it had the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

 _This isn’t right,_ he’d thought. Maxine, his mouse, had squirmed in his sleeve. He tried to calm her as much as he could without being discovered by the guard. She was bigger than Kevin had been, but she was more docile. Like Peter, she knew it was time to keep quiet and see what would happen.

Jack stood up and waited for Peter to sit--on the edge of the couch and wary--before waving the guard away and taking a seat himself. He folded his hands in his lap and leaned towards Peter. Even at eye level Jack was looming, big and dominating, pushing at Peter to bend without a word.

Peter’s eyes closed and he looked away. He kept his right arm tucked to his side.

“I’m not one for small talk these days,” Jack said. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer we evade any evasiveness and get to the point.” Jack waited for Peter to nod before continuing. “I’ve called in a few favors to see you, Peter. I don’t have many of those left these days. I need your help.”

Peter remembered Will fanning out the crime scene photographs on the table between them. It had been ugly but he had helped and that had been a good feeling. He swallowed and the words weren’t as difficult as they had been back then. “I can try.”

“Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are alive. And I know you know.”

Peter didn’t know what he could say. Maxine’s nose nudged at the inside of his wrist, his pulse racing too swiftly. He could feel her little breaths. He focused on those, keeping Jack in his peripheral.

Jack reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick stack of envelopes that Peter immediately recognized.

“Those--“ Peter said, swallowing against the panic. “Those are mine.”

“They are.” Jack set the stack on the table between them. “And from what I’ve read, despite the fake names, they’re also written by a man who was declared dead.” Jack held up his hand. “You’re the first lead I’ve found in nearly a year and you can help me bring those two in.”

Peter shook his head. He gripped at his wrist and twisted his body away from Jack. He didn’t know if he was allowed to leave or not, if he would get in trouble if he just got up and walked out now. Go to the library and sneak carrot bites to Maxine like he’d planned.

“No. No.” Peter said.

Jack leaned in, their knees too close to touching. “He writes to you. He had a wife and a son, but he writes to _you_ , Peter. _You_ have his trust.”

“I won’t do--”

“--Peter.”

“Will’s a good--a good man. He did a bad thing, but it doesn’t mean he’s a bad man.” Peter glanced up. He saw the grey of Jack’s hair, the wrinkles around his nose and mouth. He didn’t dare look higher. “He’s my friend.” Peter said. “I--I don’t want to help you ruin his life.”

Jack pulled out his phone. He set it on the table and flicked through the photographs. _So much blood_. “This is what Will and Hannibal did together. They pulled this man apart.” Jack held up his phone in front of Peter. the man’s neck had been bit. “Do you really think he can be good after this?”

Peter stared down at his hands. He watched the lump in his sleeve move. Maxine was asleep.

He knew what had happened to Will. The letters told him as much and Peter wasn’t going to be the one to help lure him back. “Yes.” Peter said.

Jack didn’t move. He didn’t seem to even breathe for a moment and then he sighed, hand falling to his knee. He tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“He was my friend too. But he’s not the same anymore. He’s not the man who helped you or me.” Jack said. He rubbed his eyes and sat back in the chair, deflated. “You really won’t change your mind, will you?”

Peter bit his lip and shook his head quickly. This was over. Relief flooded him. He could go back to his room. He could put Maxine to bed and Jack Crawford would leave him alone. The tension in his body ebbed.

He rolled his shoulders and looked up and in a horrifying second he caught Jack’s eye and Peter was struck with how tired he was. Exhausted and in need and in that moment Peter wished he could help him.

 _But Will_.

“I pushed him too hard.” Jack said, head lowered into his hands. He was so still. Peter wanted to comfort him somehow. “He found himself a family and I ruined it.”

“Nah,” Peter said. “He’s--He’s j-just doing what he’s supposed to. What’s inside of him,” Peter patted his chest. “He followed that. In--Instinct.”

Jack looked up and smiled a little. “The idea of following a thing like Hannibal Lecter because of nature doesn’t sit well with me.”

Peter shrugged. “Animals are animals. Will--Will is Will. He’s just doing what he’s meant to.”

“And what if he’s meant to kill?”

“Then,” Peter flinched. The thought was too sad. Will didn’t deserve to be locked up. “Then he’ll be caught.”

“I can’t believe it’s that simple.”

“Humans over--overcomplicate. Will did what he did--“ The photographs stung at Peter. “Because he had to.”

“There’s no redemption for him.”

“Redemption is--is.” Peter tugged at his sleeve. “It depends on whose eyes you’re looking through.”

Jack nodded. He twisted his hands together, curling them into fists and fanning them out. “Arthritis.” He said. He stood up and straightened his jacket. “What’s his name?”

Peter jumped. “Who--who’s?”

“The little guy you’re hiding in your sleeve.”

Peter looked down and then around the room. There was no one. He untwisted his arm from the odd angle he’d been holding it and opened up the hem of his sleeve. Maxine’s small head popped out and peered up at the both of them, her large brown eyes blinked slowly. She was sleepy.

“This is Maxine.”

“Cute.” Jack dipped his head a little. He buttoned up his jacket. “You can take the letters back to your room. There wasn’t anything I could use.” Jack paused on his way to the door. “Do you think he’s happier?”

“He fell in l-love.” Peter said, a small part of him envious. “I think Will is--is the h-happiest he’ll ever be.”

Jack opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. He left. 

Peter petted Maxine’s head with the tip of his finger. Her eyes closed and she fell back to sleep. 

The man from the photographs had had a chunk of his neck bitten out. _Eaten_ , Peter thought. He closed his eyes and waited for the guard to come get him and hoped for Will to be all right.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com)


End file.
